My Valhalla

Norse-ish metaphor, you could say...

In a violent self vs self conflict, I prayed for my loss.

I could die in my mind battle to be delivered to my own twisted Valhalla:

an Eden of inadequacy and self pity. 

I did mention it was twisted

I did say it was mine

I only found out after 

I was my own Valkyrie; now, of course, it seems so obvious.

Fuck.

I've permanently suspended myself in the suicidal limbo of a fierce, victor-less, struggle in my own mind.

But

What else would you call life?